You flip through the pages of the stolen journal, searching for another entry, but this next appears to be the final one in the series. It, as all the others are, is undated and unsigned, save for a tiny five-pointed star at the end, which you've come to believe is Vanya's self-chosen symbol.When you're in the undesirable basement class, people are always looking to hunt you out like a common rat. In most fortresses there are small rewards for bringing us in, and during hard times, even other skulkers might turn against you for a bit of currency. As a result, if you trust everyone you meet, you invariably wind up as zombie food. When you're an elf on top of that, in a culture with racism so ingrained in them that they find elves unacceptable, it's hard to make yourself trust anyone at all.
That's all it really is, in the end. It's racism. Most dwarves are prejudiced against elves to such extremes that they believe themselves to be better in every way. But what if you're an elf raised in a dwarven culture? What if you're brought up to believe that your own kind are horrible, heartless, tree-hugging, flesh-eating monsters? I have the added problem of not even knowing anymore what parts of my memory are real.
It's hard enough when you can't trust or love anyone else, but
I can't even love or trust
myself... just because of who I am.
~~~
Urist and I continued onwards through the darkness, following the guiding light of Urist's magical spearhead. I'd heard of things like this happening in stories, but to see it happening firsthand was almost too much to believe, and with my crush by my side, I felt as if I was traveling in a dream.
Urist broke the silence hesitantly as we walked, his voice echoing through the caverns. "You know, Vanya... it is possible that Hans is only a trap."
I shook my head and brushed my hair out of my eyes, tucking it into my hood. "No, I know people. Hans is too honest and simple-minded to do something like that."
He looked at me curiously. "How are you so sure?"
"I'm a skulker... eventually you gain a sense of who can be trusted."
He nodded slowly, thinking. "All right. I will trust your judgment."
We soon reached the old malachite vein, and the spearpoint's glow faded to nothingness, leaving me once more in utter blackness as I felt about for Urist's sturdy form. He noticed and took my hand, and together we continued onwards.
Suddenly I heard the soft stomp of shoed feet, and someone rumbled, "I'll ask ya kindly to say who you are, and don't ya take another step.
"Hans, it's only us," Urist replied in a low voice.
Hans breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, good, I was worried there. Well, I've got an idea to get you out of here. I've got my pick with me, and we could dig a -"
I interrupted him softly. "We're not leaving, Hans."
"We need to get to Mr Frog's quarters," my companion added.
Our benefactor sounded suspicious. "Now, I don't mind helpin' you folks, but I can't be havin' you hurt Mr Frog - that's goin' too far."
I shook my head, hoping he could see the gesture in the dark. "I don't want to hurt anyone," I assured him. "I just need to get to my bracelet. It's important."
"Well..." Hans said, thinking it through, "so long as you mean it. I'll help you get to the bracelet, but it's going to be really hard. There's soldiers everywhere upstairs. They're watching all the main hallways like hawks. Everyone is being searched, and there's a few squads down here searching for you, too."
"They will be sorry if they catch us," I heard Urist say grimly beside me. "I won't kill anyone, but I will not pull my punches, either, if it comes to violence."
Hans seemed to agree. "It's true a broken nose heals. Come on, now, let's get you two back up there - follow me right quick."
"Wait, Hans," Urist said, pulling me after him. "You said a moment ago that we could dig our way to freedom... Could you dig into one of the unused hallways around Mr Frog's room, or perhaps a ventilation shaft?"
"That'd be easy - I could get us real close like. But ya'll need to know, mining is noisy work once you get going - they'll know we're comin'." I could almost imagine Hans grimacing as he added, "And I'm sorry, missus, but it'd be terribly messy."
I laughed softly and replied, "A little mess is the least of my worries."
Urist and I sat down in the darkness and waited for Hans to finish, talking occasionally to ease the monotony and break the silence. Urist seemed unwilling to relate many of his past adventures to me yet, nor did he seem overly eager to pry into my life, but he did make for good conversation, if you didn't mind doing a lot of the talking - and I didn't. It had been longer than I could remember since I had someone who would actually
listen to me, and it wasn't
too too long before I found myself relating much of my past to him, scooting closer to where he sat until we almost touched. Occasionally he would ask a question or respond to one of mine, but mostly, he just listened and let me talk. I like that about him - he's a true gentleman, and there are far, far too few of those remaining in the world these days.
It was several hours later before Hans returned, saying he'd finished the shaft. "Just follow close to me, now, hear?" he said, as Urist took my hand to lead me. When we reached the tiny tunnel, Hans continued on ahead, but Urist put me in the middle, saying he would be rearguard, just in case.
We started forwards, ducking to avoid the low ceiling, and I felt my old fears return: the walls were so close around me... almost as if they wanted to crush me between them, like the collapsing hallway we'd escaped earlier that night. I tried my best not to, but I began to hyperventilate, the sound of my breath joining the sounds of our shuffling feet echoing through the tunnel.
Hans seemed to guess at my fear and started talking. "Yep, this here gabbro is very stable. Hardly ever shifts on its own. We aren't in an earthquake area. No sir, this stuff ain't movin' any time soon. The way I dug it, this tunnel is perfectly safe in an earthquake anyways. I know a couple things about tunnels. I'm a good miner, don't worry."
Though I felt bad about how he thought I didn't trust his work, I was too scared to worry about it overmuch, trying not to whimper in fright.
Finally, finally, we made it to the end, leaving the freshly mined passage and entering a wide, open area.
"See?" Hans said, patting me roughly on the back. "We made it just fine. Perfectly safe, as I told ya."
I nodded shakily, shivering gently, my eyes closed tightly. "Mmm-hmm... I'm fine, I just... I just need some light."
I felt around frantically for my friends, and felt Urist's careful grip as he took my hand in his. "What is it?" he asked quietly, his voice seemingly amplified by the rock walls around us. "Are you all right?"
I swallowed and tried to calm myself as best I could, but it didn't help enough. "I'm fine," I managed after a moment. "I usually don't mind the dark, but I can't stand small spaces, and the dark makes it so much worse." They were quiet, and suddenly I realized they were likely staring at me curiously, and I blushed. "I'm fine, really," I attempted to reassure them, opening my eyes, though everything was still black as pitch. "Let's just go."
"I ain't never met a dwarf what got scared of the dark before," Hans intoned deeply. "Why cain't you see in the dark?"
I grimaced slightly and pulled down my hood, tucking my hair behind my pointed elven ears.
Hans whistled softly, and said, "I ain't never met no elf before... I thought you was a dwarfgirl this whole time. No wonder you don't like the dark none - you lot are used to moonlight and forests, ain't ya?"
He was stereotyping me, but at least he hadn't said something along the lines of "you'd better not think of eating me". Dwarves are generally taught that elves need to eat sentient creatures to survive... and that wouldn't have made for a very comfortable conversation. Still, he hadn't said it scornfully, and most dwarves would have.
"I was raised as a dwarf," I explained hesitantly, "so I don't care for moonlight much more than you do... but I still can't see in the dark."
Hans chuckled. "I think your ears are pretty. I wish mine were pointy-like." I giggled in spite of myself, and he continued in a whisper, "Wait, do you hear better than us? Was I talkin' really loud to you, like I was shouting? I'm so sorry!"
I actually laughed a little; in a way, his concern was cute. "No, you're fine," I said with a friendly smile. "I don't think I really hear much better than you do... but we really
should get going, though."
So we set off again, Urist leading me. After a short while, we began to enter the torch-lit hallways of the fortress proper, and I began to recognize my surroundings again. I gave a sigh of relief. We were walking through the apartment level of the fortress, and Mr Frog's room was just around the corner ahead. But as we turned that final corner, I realized we'd made a serious mistake.
Standing idly outside his door was none other than Mr Frog himself, and standing behind him was a squad of the best Spearbreakers soldiers: Draignean, Fischer, Feb, Jack Magnus, and Awl. As he saw us, a sly grin tugged at the corners of his lips. I seemed to notice before my newfound friends did, and I grabbed their hands, frantically trying to pull them back.
Mr Frog spoke to those behind him with a satisfied smile. "And here she is now. As I told you, Fischer, she's very predictable." Then he frowned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Those two with her - aren't they your soldiers?"
"Not anymore," Fischer growled in her deep voice, pulling her pike from behind her and sending it into a rapid spin with the flick of her wrist. "Boys, let's fuck 'em up." The others in her squad readied their weapons, and she led the charge against us.
"Let's go - back to the tunnel," Urist commanded, turning and leading us back the way we came at a run. I'd had a good night's sleep, and though the sprinting came easy now, I was sure my legs would be sore the next morning.
As we turned the second corner, we almost smashed into a couple macedwarves, their weapons already drawn.
"I was hoping we could skip this part," Urist sighed.
Hans laughed jovially, a great grin on his face. "Aw, I love me a good scrap!" he roared, charging forwards almost joyfully. Urist followed him closely behind.
Hans threw his full weight against the macedwarf on the left, bowling him over and sending him sliding over the smoothed floor, his armor clinking. Urist's charge only knocked the other back a step, but he followed it up with a punch to the nose. His opponent heavily swung his mace, but Urist ducked to avoid it and rammed his shoulder into the macedwarf's stomach, picking him up by the arm and slamming him roughly on his back. At the same time, Hans punched the other in the head, knocking him out. The second macedwarf kicked Urist in the stomach as Hans rushed over and grabbed his leg, swinging him in a circle as if it was an Armokian Hammer-toss, and sending the poor soldier spinning into a wall, unconscious.
I watched in horror. What they were doing was considered traitorous, and it was all to protect
me. Fischer would have them killed if she caught them.
Suddenly Urist caught my hand and almost pulled me over as he led the three of us out of the trap. "Faster!" he called out as we ran for our very lives, but it was useless: several large squads of soldiers emerged from a hallway far ahead of us and began to approach at a jog. With Fischer somewhere behind, and no side hallways in between, we were trapped.
Urist turned to me and grabbed my arms gently, looking into my eyes with a grim determination. "Vanya, you have to go
now. You'll only get one chance."
I shook my head, tears pooling in my eyes as I looked into his. "I can't leave you," I whispered. "They'll kill you; I'll never see you again, and I only just found you!"
Urist shook me gently. "Vanya, you said I had a purpose, do you remember?
This is my purpose - to buy you some time to do what you have to do. I owe you my life, and now I'm repaying the debt by saving yours."
I started to cry. "But you'll
die!" I cried out in anguish. "You
can't die!"
His jaw set. "You said wanted a purpose. This is it. Destroy your bracelet so Mr Frog will pardon you as you said he would, but be quick. Don't cry for me, Vanya. You gave me an extra year to my life, and without you I would already be dead."
I sniffed, trying to control my weeping. "I'll never forget you, Urist..." I whispered, as he and Hans turned from me and began to run towards the far corner.
"Follow closely!" Urist called out over his shoulder.
I ran forwards, blinking back the tears to keep my eyes from blurring. Ahead of us, Fischer's squad rounded the corner.
Hans roared and charged forwards, met with battlecries from the approaching dwarves.
"For Sarvesh!" Urist yelled, lowering his head like a bull and hurling himself courageously into the fray as soldiers stumbled backwards, stunned. Hans raised his huge fists and sent first one, then another legendary fighter sprawling on the floor.
My eyes blurred with tears I was unable to keep back as I passed them, helplessly watching as Fischer pounded her mighty fist into Urist's side.
I turned the corner as the rest of the Spearbreakers army closed in, surrounding my two friends. I knew in my heart that they had no chance, and I swore I'd never forget Urist's bravery and unselfishness. If I ever bore a child... I'd name it after him.
I didn't have long to reflect, however. As I turned onto Mr Frog's hallway, I found myself toe to toe with five armored swordsdwarves, and I'd forgotten to cover my ears after showing them to Hans. "It's the elf!" one exclaimed with a growl, and they pulled their weapons.
I'm not sure how to explain what happened next. It all happened so quickly I didn't have time to think, or even understand what had saved my life.
As the first swung his blade out towards me, I found myself leaping forwards over their heads, springing off the leader's shoulders and landing a solid kick on the back of this head. They watched me in surprise as I flew through the air, landing firmly on my feet. They whirled to face me and struck out with their weapons, which glinted evilly in the torchlight.
It was all as though it was reflex - not a thought was going through my mind. I felt paralyzed with fright, but my arms seemed to move by themselves, parrying two of their weapons with my hands on the flats of their blades; positioning one of them to block the third. Time seemed to crawl, and I leaned backwards horizontally to dodge the fourth's wide arc, which whistled over my face as I caught another soldier beneath the jaw with my outstretched foot and sending him tumbling slowly away, cracking his head against a wall.
As I righted myself, a blade stabbed towards my chest like lightning. I leapt lightly into the air to avoid it, landing barefoot on its flat side and springing upwards over their heads again in a flip. They yelled in anger as they noticed their fallen comrade, but I, upside down and vertical above them, grabbed two of their heads with my hands and smacked them together with a strength I hadn't known I had.
I landed on my hands and one knee, and my eyes seemed to clear, everything returning to normal. I looked upwards in time to see two unconscious soldiers crumple to the ground.
The last soldier dropped his sword in shock at the sight of all his squad mates lying listless at his feet. He seemed about my age, somewhere around twenty, with a short beard and a handsome face. He looked at me as if I was an alien from another world, and held up his hands as if to ward me off as he began to slowly back away. "Who... what
are you?!?" he gasped, terror in his eyes.
Getting painfully to my feet, I took in what I'd done, my eyes widening in astonishment. "I'm... I'm sorry, I have no idea... I didn't mean to -"
"Stay away from me!" he yelled, retrieving his fallen sword and stumbling backwards. "Just stay away!"
I bit my lip, wanting desperately to apologize. I hadn't meant to hurt anyone. "I'm sorry!" I said again, taking a step closer. "Please, you have to understand, I don't know how I..." My efforts were useless - the young swordsdwarf turned and sprinted down the hallway, his boots clanging against the floor, jabbering almost madly about monsters in the fortress.
I brushed my hair out of my face, replacing my hood sadly as I knelt and checked for the pulses of the fallen soldiers.
But I
was a monster - I knew that now. How else had I defeated five swordsmen in under a minute? How much else had I forgotten, how much else had Parasol erased from my mind?
I was relieved to find that I hadn't killed anyone, but I wasn’t safe yet: behind me, I could hear the familiar stomp of metal boots as the entire Spearbreakers army approached where I sat. Standing quickly, I ran forwards towards my goal: Mr Frog's room.
I threw open the door in a haste, rushing inside and closing it fast and hoping that Fischer hadn't seen where I was.
"It's unusual for someone to put themselves into a trap they know exists," a deep, all-too-familiar voice spoke. It was Mr Frog, putting away some equipment and stepping out of the shadows. "...but it’s even more unusual for someone without military training to take down five adept soldiers. How did you accomplish that?" he asked curiously, removing his sawpike from a wall.
"You know I'm not a spy," I reminded him, trying to reassure him and buy myself some time. My eyes darted about the room, looking for my bracelet, but I didn't see it anywhere.
He switched his sawpike on, and the buzzing sound sounded newer, even sharper somehow. "But do I really know that, now? Perhaps my potion didn't work at all, and all you told me were lies." Mr Frog advanced slowly, cautiously, holding the spinning blade out far ahead of him. I began to back away to avoid what would be certain death at his hands.
"I didn't lie," I told him quietly. "I found out things after you left - things I hadn't known before. But where's my bracelet?"
Suddenly he leapt forwards with a mighty swing. I fell backwards and scooted away from him - once, twice, thrice he struck the spinning blade downwards towards me, and I only just barely managed to roll away from each stroke as it clanged against the floor, throwing sparks onto my arms and shredding the cloak Urist had given me. Finally I managed to get away, leaping to my feet and running to the other side of the room.
"Come, I know about your apparently extensive combat training now," Mr Frog said soothingly, trying to tempt me into attacking him. "You need not hide your abilities anymore. Strike me down - I have no training, no experience... only a weapon." He walked between the many tables, spinning his sawpike idly in his hands as he approached.
I prayed for something like the miracle of Urist’s spearhead, or what had happened with the swordsdwarves outside Mr Frog’s room, but nothing happened. "Mr Frog, I need you to listen to me - I need to tell you something important!"
"Then say it," he said simply, stabbing towards me with his blade.
I leapt backwards and smashed my back painfully into a table, barely ducking in time as the screaming weapon swung around a second time for my head. I crawled beneath the table and clambered to my feet on the other side. "I
need my bracelet! I can't explain until I have it!" It was close, and I could tell - I could feel the old longing to keep it safe beginning to return. Suddenly, I didn't want to destroy it - I just wanted to take it and run far, far away. The gears in my mind seemed to shift, and I decided that that’s what I’d do: I’d take my bracelet and run.
Mr Frog stopped, looking at me curiously as if I was on display under a magnifying glass. "Why did you always want your bracelet so...?” he asked, half to himself. "You seem almost obsessed with it even now - what does it do that's so important? Does it open a portal to Ballpoint? Is that it?" As he spoke, he brought his weapon down towards my head so quickly that it grazed the back of my cloak and blouse as I leapt away, ripping apart the cloth. I started to hyperventilate again in fear, and tried my very best not to cry. I didn't answer him, but followed the strange, obsessive feeling my bracelet seemed to produce towards the other side of the room. Then I saw it - a familiar golden glint.
As I ran towards it, I heard Mr Frog's mocking voice behind me. "So you found it, did you? I’m sorry, but you’re too late," he laughed, pulling a lever on the wall.
The room began to fill with a purplish gas, pouring in through the ceiling everywhere as if it didn’t exist. I tried to take a deep breath and hold it, but I wasn’t fast enough - my throat began to burn, followed by my eyes and lungs. I choked, my chest convulsing sporadically, and as I tried to make my way to my little golden keepsake, pain seared my skin like magma.
"I designed this just for you, Vanya," Mr Frog said with a deep, overdramatic breath as he willingly filled his lungs with the poisoned air. "Ahhhh... To me, it smells like the best merlot from my private stocks, but to you... Well, at the moment, I doubt you even care."
The room began to swim, and I grew dizzy, stumbling forwards almost blindly towards the tiny glint of gold, my eyes beginning to twitch. I couldn't even force myself to breathe. "Mr Frog, stop!" I tried to bring myself to say, but my lips felt immobile and numb, my tongue swollen in my mouth. Suddenly I pitched forwards onto the ground as my legs seemed to turn to jelly.
"Shhhh, it will all be over soon," the scientist said as he approached, but in my ears, it sounded like the echo of the dead. Then I remembered Urist's sacrifice.
With a last, desperate effort, I reached the table, shakily pulling myself up the leg and grasping at my bracelet as the blackness began to encroach upon me, colors swirling in my mind. The last thing I remember was falling to the side, my bracelet shattering unnaturally against the floor, and the surprised yell of Mr Frog, sounding so, so distant. As everything dimmed, I remember thinking that if this was death, it was far more painful than I'd ever been told.
☆